Bleeding Water
by gaaralover916
Summary: Descriptive piece. Will soon have fluff! Beta Note: Please read it! She needs more confidence!
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hello. I'm more of a critic usually, but when I saw people were looking at my profile, I felt obliged to write something. Here it is. I ask that you please flame it if you need to!! This isn't really a story yet, just a descriptive piece. BTW, I will never ever ask you to review, but your reviews are important to me because I WILL use your ideas, as long as they're reasonable. Thanks!!

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She delicately brushed the lace on the fan. It was a blue fan. Small and light, it fit perfectly in her small, pale hand. She carefully held the fan to her face. She ran her slender fingers over the gold embossing and paint. The careful strokes seemed to call to her like a morning dove's song. Like the last part of a forgotten world, she could see the candle behind her flicker. Quietly, softly, she could hear the sound of some ancient instrument fill her mind with memories of pain, suffering, and redemption. An image of beautiful light sliced her heart like the first frost of fall. It was frightening: bold and strong. She was swept up, and as if some unknown force was propelling her, she rose to meet the coming light. Colors swirled around her. A feather hit her face. She picked the feather up; it was black, as if it was covered in ink. A warm darkness slowly traveled up her arm, and although she felt she should be scared, she did not fight the warm, ordinary feel of the darkness. It did not make her feel bad or frightened; it was simply an escape from the unknown. She snapped the fan shut. This was special.

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Beta Note: Hi, this is Love's Labour's Won, gaaralover916's beta reader.

gaaralover916: Yeah, I love my editor!!

Love's Labour's Won: Thanks, but I was just going to ask you guys to give her some nice reviews, because, for some odd reason, she thinks she can't write.

gaaralover916: I can't.

Love's Labour's Won: See what I mean? She's a lot better than she gives herself credit for, so build up her confidence a little for me, will you? And check out my fics while you're at it. (shameless plug... LOL!)

gaaralover916: Hey! Stop using my story as your propaganda platform!

Love's Labour's Won: If it gets me more readers... LOL! But review her story, seriously.


	2. Chapter 2

She walked out of the shop with crumpled paper bag which held her new found treasure

She walked out of the shop with crumpled paper bag which held her new found treasure. She walked down the street deep in thought. Unfortunately or fortunately depending on the way she looked at it she ran straight into a blonde porcupine pine. A new feeling crept into her heart. Sheer fright. She felt as if a knife had just been sent up her spine and her face turned white for a moment. She felt her heart sink as the feeling subsided and she peered up in dread. She knew the drill.

"Oops sorry Hinata!" The sound ground her ears as it did usually.

"Funny," she thought. "You'd think I'd enjoy him talking to me."

Unseen tears formed in her eyes.

"N-no Naruto it was my fault." She said softly as she scooted away.

"No way. I wasn't looking!" said Naruto confidence exuding from him.

His confidence was something she couldn't grasp. It was like trying to catch a bird that was flying away. Far away, far away from her. She got up unsteadily and picked up the crumpled bag.

"Have a nice day Naruto-kun."

She walked away very slowly hating herself.


	3. Chapter 3

A mist of steam filtered out of the cup hot creamy goodness. The smooth hot touch of tea wasn't far from the young girls lips. She scrambled over to the coffee maker, which used to make tea in. Her short ponytail swooshed like an airplane swaying to in fro in a violent storm. In fact it just so happened that wind was high and the rain was coming down like the beer of drunkard.

The girl moved to and fro making her favorite midnight snack because she knew that the night would be full of thought because her mind was lingering like a bee and a flower. She sailed across the kitchen to her favorite window seat and looked out at the storm. Looking at it she like a young child who had just found out how many people there really were in the world.

If people had seen her they would have said she had looked beautiful at that moment because at that moment her soul was moving like the wind, invisible but always leaving a deep feeling of wonder as it passed by. She was an ordinary looking girl though in truth. She didn't especially deep eyes, or an excitement about her like electricity. No, it was her hidden self that would have been seen as beautiful if anyone had gazed upon her. For as she sat there staring a the rain, her life ran down her face in long dark marks of mascara and eyeliner.

Her fears began to show in her lips as they quivered gently. Her mind wandered over her fields of sorrow that whispered truths of her nature, which she cared not to think on to much. Unfortunately, like oil in water, her thoughts traveled to the top. As if her soul had traveled away in the wind and emptiness traveled forth from her. She felt small and insignificant, yet at the same time she felt as if she as small and wild as she was, she was to take on the world. The thought chilled her bones and she gnashed her teeth together.

The wind hurled at the windows of the house and the place shuddered like a frightened child. The hair on the back of her neck stood wild as a lighting strike hit the house a couple blocks over. A distant fire siren began to go into the distance as she gently took another spoonful of her tea. She considered trying to gently sip it but decided that it was to hot and brought another spoonful to her mouth. The warm creamy goodness eased its way around her tongue and her teeth. She gulped and the sensation was over. Fortunately she had just gotten her cup so it was still full of the tantalizing liquid, which brought her such pleasure.

As she enjoyed her tea she began to think. If you haven't had chamomile tea before, or haven't had it prepared the right way. You would understand the pleasure she was enjoying at that moment. The proper way to make chamomile tea is to first make sure you steep it long enough. If you don't you won't have the flavor that she so craved. The second important thing you needed was to put three teaspoons of cream into it. This made the tea rich and creamy, and it also gave a substance to it that tea lacks often. The last thing is the right snack. Now snacks were hard things to decide upon. You could always depend on tea but snacks depended on your mood. For example, today she was having chocolate with her tea. This meant she felt deep. Another example might be sour cream with chips because she wanted something.

She grinned lightly as she made this list in her head because it made her sound so OCD and not very deep as the chocolate suggested. Perhaps there is more to being deep than the philosophical ideas of professors she thought silently. Perhaps all of our decisions are wondrous as they are and not what they could be. Another deep thought came to her, those decisions that are considered so simple, were fundamental in an important chain of events. As much of a logical fallacy as it was, she still believed it to be an interesting idea. It was hopeless though to try to figure out the perfect choice though because you could never really know what would have happened if you had made the other choice.

She tapped her spoon lightly on the edge of her cup as she realized that her tea was cool enough to drink. She picked up the saucer and put it in the sink as she held the cup in her hand. She walked over to the window and looked at some kids out in the rain. She was a little shocked over the fact that first of all anyone was up at that hour and second that they were running around in the rain. Curious she slipped on her raincoat and walked out onto the porch silently.

It was dark and cold and hollow as she stood on the brick floor of her porch. She tried to make out who was out in the rain but couldn't because the rain had obstructed the view into long streaks. She sighed as she realized she would have to go closer to figure out who it was. An inner battle ensued between her curiosity and her wish to stay warm and dry. As always her curiosity won the battle.

She ventured closer to the sounds of laughter and chatter. A girl of about sixteen yelled loudly, "YOU GET BACK HERE YOU SON OF A-…" and she was cut off with a gurgle with a water balloon.

"Haha," yelled a blonde haired boy with great confidence. "You cannot escape me! I will make you go on a date with me!"

"In your dreams lover boy," screamed the girl with an equal amount of confidence. She rushed over to another boy with raven black hair and tried to pull him from his spot. The boy did not seem pleased with the familiarity of the gesture and struck her across the face. A silence came between the trio of teenagers.

"Don't touch me you filth." came spitting like venom from the mouth of the raven-haired boy.

The blonde boy's and the girl's face mirrored each other as they looked at him in shock.

"I apologize," said the boy, "But please refrain from touching be in such a bothersome way."

They nodded acceptance and said that they would be leaving. The boy remained rooted to his spot as the rain continued to pour. A small snort came from him. At first she wasn't sure if he was laughing or had a cold, but as the noise continued she realized that he was crying softly. So he was sorry. He quickly dried his face as best he could suddenly. He began to walk and she followed curiously.

She followed him to a small apartment complex where he eventually wandered up to his room. She noted the number was nine, and wandered home.

Went she got home she realized how nosy she had been and felt embarrassed. What if he had noticed her? She felt kind of frightened of the boy so that made her spine tingle in regret of her rudeness.

She licked her lips nervously and got ready for bed quickly and snuggled down into her covers. She slept fitfully and kept dreaming about the raven-haired boy slapping her and calling her filth.


End file.
